Events in this story are not representative of any specific client with Restoration Center Chicago, but rather, are a compilation of a variety of human experiences and stories.

This story contains plot elements of pregnancy loss and miscarriage, as well as unhelpful responses to this experience. If you or a loved one has struggled through this, we want to acknowledge the uniqueness of your experience and while you may not relate to aspects of this story, we invite you to find validation/affirmation with individuals who know and love you or a trained professional.

It was my second time sharing my story, but the words still trembled out of me. This was new, raw, and hard for me to say. Sitting across from a trusted friend, I confessed the grief I was experiencing after my miscarriage. She had always been someone I could rely on for guidance, and I hoped she could offer some solace or support in this dark season.

“I lost the baby,” I told her, swallowing tears. “I’m sad, a little angry at God, and I’m just struggling to feel motivated.”

For a moment, I saw empathy in her eyes—until her expression shifted into a bright smile. “Thank you for sharing,” she replied. “I just want to challenge you to consider all you have to be grateful for. At least you know you can get pregnant! You’re young, and I’m positive everything will be fine. I feel so thankful after what you shared.”

Her words were a blow. They didn’t feel comforting; they felt invalidating and discomforting, brushing aside the pain I had barely managed to share. My cheeks flushed, and I forced myself to smile back, but inside, I felt ashamed for even mentioning my grief. Maybe I just needed to be more thankful.

—-

This moment illustrates a dynamic that many of us experience when dealing with painful emotions—ours or someone else’s. Often, people are uncomfortable with pain, trying to replace it with positivity, looking for a silver lining, or urging others to “just be thankful.” In Christian communities especially, we often hear Scripture like, “Be thankful in all circumstances,” and interpret them to mean we should suppress any negative emotions.

While gratitude is powerful, forcing it prematurely can be damaging. This “toxic positivity” undermines genuine healing by rushing us past our pain. When we skip over grief and move too quickly to joy, we might miss the true, deep gratitude that can emerge when we face our struggles honestly. If we allow ourselves to sit with our grief, we create space for authentic healing and transformative joy.

Even more, that pain is crucial—God uses painful experiences to reach areas of our hearts that might be closed off. When we are willing to walk through the journey of grief and pain, we can open ourselves to a richer, even deeper experience of life. This isn’t about ignoring thankfulness, but realizing that true gratitude can ACTUALLY come from all our experiences, especially the challenging ones.

What if, instead of pushing pain aside, we viewed it as an invitation to deeper healing and connection with God and others?

Could embracing the pain in our lives be the key to a more genuine, more lasting joy?

What are two or three pain points you are experiencing in your life right now? What would it look like for you to accept the suffering in your life and to not shy away from the real pain of it, even if others may not acknowledge that pain in your life? How can you work on listening more deeply to others, and to be willing to be comfortable with being uncomfortable with and for others?

If you struggle to consider how to experience deeper healing from and with God in your pain and grief, I encourage you to connect with a therapist near you who can journey with you in your processing.